Mirrorfold
by Noir Lime Canuto
Summary: Instead of Millicent Bullstrode, Hermione chooses to change into Theodore Nott. The transformation goes swimmingly until, of course, Hermione finds herself face to face with the actual Theodore Nott. Getting back out of the dungeons might not be as easy as getting in, and Blaise Zabini definitely isn't helping. / One-shot, bit fluff.


**M**

**i**

**r**

**rorfold**

"Blaise? It's me, Theodore."

"Well, that can't be true."

Hermione gulped. Stepping out from where he'd apparently been crouched with a book behind Blaise Zabini's bed was Theodore Nott. The actual Theodore Nott. A mirror image of herself.

She didn't let another heartbeat pass before she drew her wand. To her surprise, he drew his as well, the book still in his right hand.

"_Silencio_," he murmured calmly. Hermione tried to retort but even as she felt her throat strain no sound was produced. She should've known. She'd read about the spell, of course, but where had Theodore Nott learned it? It was definitely advanced.

Why hadn't she known he was leftie?

**M**

_"Did you get Millicent's hair?"_

_ "No. I realized she doesn't talk to Malfoy or them anyway, though. And Pansy doesn't even like her. So I got another Slytherin's hair during Care of Magical Creatures."_

_ "Oh, that was clever, Hermione."_

_ "Thanks, Ron."_

_ "Who's hair did you get?"_

**M**

"_Expelliarmus_, too," Theodore Nott added lightly, tossing the book onto the bed and attempting to catch Hermione's wand with his right hand. He missed by about a quarter-yard, and Hermione found herself biting back a laugh.

Theodore Nott's lake-blue eyes shot to her and she realized she'd been caught in her moment of near-mirth. To her surprise, the boy grinned.

"That was pretty bad, huh?"

She nodded in reply.

The boy reached for the wand on the floor, but seemed to hesitate. "I really shouldn't turn my back on you, since I haven't _stupified _you, but if I _stupify _you, I can't question you. After all, you're not me, but you've got to be someone." She watched as he looked from the wand back at her. "Ok," he added, smiling a little again, "I also kind of have to wait until that _silencio _wears off. Or undo it, or whatever. But you get the idea, right? I'm not really about to let you go."

Whatever his plans might be, Hermione wanted to be gone, fast. For all she knew, Theodore Nott _was _the Heir of Slytherin. It seemed like it was probably Malfoy, but all she really knew about Theodore Nott was that he was quiet and he did well on exams, so it was possible that he was just trying to blend in in order to do the most damage, or something.

Regardless, it was best if she got out.

She noticed Theodore Nott's blue eyes had fallen on her wand again and she went for it, diving forward with the intention of getting between him and the wand and knocking him over long enough to escape. She could easily rush through the common room without making too much of a scene, as there was no outward sign that she couldn't speak.

Tragically, her plan proved unsuccessful.

Just as she'd lunged forward, Theodore dove back, and cried, "_Locomotor Mortis_!"

Hermione felt her legs snap together and go numb. Without a thought, she abandoned her task of grabbing her wand and attempted instead to break her fall. She landed on her left elbow and right knuckles and would've yelped if she had been able to.

"I'd apologize, but that really was your own fault," Theodore Nott pointed out from above her, bending over her to scoop up her wand. She shimmied onto her back in what she hoped was a dignified way.

She watched as he studied her wand. She felt a strange combination of violated and betrayed and clenched her fists in frustration. She was too _smart _for this. Why had Draco told her Blaise was upstairs? Did he know this would happen? Were Harry and Ron captured downstairs? This thought made her clench her fists tighter.

"Hmm, vinewood, right?" he asked. She scowled at him. He laughed.

"Oh, is that my angry face? I need to adjust that, I don't really look threatening at all." Hermione huffed, which only made him chuckle again. Feeling defiant, she decided to stare out the window.

"Offended, are you? That's not even your face! So, it must be someone hot-headed. _Palleo_," Theodore pointed his wand at Hermione's tie and it turned the gold and scarlet of Gryffindor. Hermione looked down, but pointedly didn't change her expression.

"Oh, I'm right. Merlin, I might not even need to take the _silencio _off. Let's see, no one outside our year would target me, because nobody knows me, because I don't like people. So, you're a hothead in Gryffindor. Doesn't really narrow it down, but it's something."

To Hermione's annoyance, he was still smiling. The fact that he was sort of handsome when he smiled made her angrier.

**M**

_ "Theodore Nott? I thought he was in Ravenclaw. Isn't he in Ravenclaw, Harry?"_

_ "Search me, I've never heard of him."_

_ "You two are so daft. He's in Slytherin. He's really quiet, which is perfect, because the less I talk, the better. I don't think Polyjuice Potion changes your voice."_

_ "Hey, for all we know, 'Mione, he's got a lovely delicate little voice and you'll do just fine."_

_ "Thanks, Ron. I think."_

**M**

"Well, as I said, I don't like people. So, I could tie you up in this dorm room until whatever potion or charm-probably potion, actually, but nevermind-you're using wears off, or you could just tell me who you are and why you look like me. I doubt you will, but it wouldn't be very sporting not to give you the option. _Sermo_." Theodore Nott swished his wand in her direction again.

Hermione reasoned that if he did want to know, then he definitely didn't know she was coming, so Harry and Ron were probably safe downstairs. Causing too much of a commotion could jeopardize their position, especially if Theodore went down for help. She didn't want any additional charms keeping her in place-she could probably hop out if she really had to-so the best idea for now would be to stay put and stall.

"How sporting of you," she replied tartly. She grew alarmed the moment a smile spread across his face.

"Oh, so you're a girl! I hadn't even considered. That really narrows it down."

_Blast it_. Of all the stupid mistakes to make-she could have at least put on a gruff voice. Why didn't she think? Of course he'd recognize her voice.

Theodore ruffled her hair-technically his hair. She snapped her head back automatically and frowned.

"Girls in Gryffindor. Parvati Patil, or is it Padma? One of them. Then there's that dippy one, her friend, but I don't think that's you. Unless someone has put you up to it? I guess I shouldn't rule you out, Dippy One. Then there's Hermione Granger. You sounded just like her just now, but she wouldn't be stupid enough to let me catch her, would she?"

By now Theodore had sat down on the bed facing her, legs crossed. She was still sitting up, propping herself against the wall, glaring at him.

"You also wouldn't be in the Slytherin dorms on your own, I think. Of the three suspects, let's call them, you're the only full muggleborn. For all you know, I'm the heir, and you just delivered your muggleborn self to me. Wandless, legs bound, I could kill you right now..." he trailed off. "If I were the heir, anyway. Which I'm not."

Hermione was hardly convinced, and perhaps he could tell, because he continued, the ghost of a smile still on his lips.

"Oh, no, really, Gryffindor girl, I'm not. My father was a full blown death eater, I've heard it all first hand. Something goes wrong, blame the muggles! Something goes right? It's because you earned it, by having pureblood parents! It makes everything so _predetermined_, it's silly. Takes the real blame and victory out of everything, don't you think? If you decide to call yourself a winner at birth, what's the point of winning anything? Being born a winner is something only a true loser can aim for, it's the laziest kind of success, and I'll have none of it, thanks."

Hermione was a little surprised, but didn't let her guard down. She didn't know Theodore Nott-all of this could just be an attempt to build up trust so she'd admit she was Hermione Granger. Still, she needed to let him think she bought it, she needed to stall somehow.

"You sure do like to talk, huh?" she tried in her best Lavender Brown impersonation. The warmth of Theodore's responding laughter chilled her spine.

"Well, talk about overcompensating, Hermione Granger. If I didn't know before, honestly. And yes, I like to talk. Not often, and usually only to people worth talking to, like Blaise. Which maybe you know, since you-sorry, _I_-was looking for him?" Hermione shrugged, Theodore continued. "Anyway, with a captive audience, I can't help myself."

"Ha, ha," Hermione replied dryly.

Theodore frowned. "Knowing who you are is actually really jarring, when it's just like looking in the mirror. How long ago did you take the Polywhateveritscalled? Do we get real Hermione Granger back, soon?"

Hermione smiled thinly. "Just took it, actually." Which was something of a lie, since she'd wanted to test it out on herself before administering it to the other two. She'd been Theodore Nott for almost an hour already and she'd only taken about twice as much as she'd given to Ron and Harry. Fortunately, hers had tasted infinitely better than they reported theirs tasted. Hers was just vaguely over-sweet, like a first bite of candy floss.

"Oh, that's a shame," Theodore said, eyebrows raised. He sounded sincere as he explained, "Crabbe and Goyle usually come back for nap time in about half an hour, and Draco usually escorts them. I can't imagine the two of you are very friendly, he complains about you pretty constantly. I sometimes think he has a bit of a crush, but I think even then he wouldn't think twice about taking advantage of your state of capture. Not really a feelings-guy, him."

"And you're a 'feelings-guy?'" she asked skeptically, not really caring about the answer but wanting to drag the bizarre conversation along.

"Oh, yeah, sure, quiet, brooding type, aren't I? Except not really. Like I said, I don't care much for people, but then, would you, when you're stuck in with this lot? And then the Ravenclaws are so condescending and Gryffindors are foolhearty and Hufflepuffs hardly count to begin with."

"So you're lonely," Hermione concluded flatly.

Theodore grinned. "Not with you here, Hermione!" he clapped his hands together and she cringed. "Sorry," he quickly apologised, his smile fading, "Just testing out my 'repulsed' face. Good show of it, Granger! Anyway," he swung his legs down and put his jaw in his hands, leaning forward towards her but still just out of her reasonable reach, "I'm not your target."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked.

"Yup. You haven't even done your homework on me, I'm acting completely unlike myself and you're neither surprised not concerned-you don't even know to be. So this is all new to you, I'm all new to you. Why is Hermione Granger, muggleborn Gryffindor girl, throwing herself into the Slytherin boys dorm when the heir is loose? Because she isn't alone, of course. She's working with others-most likely Gryffindors. At least two of them and no more than five, seeing as you're here in the field. You're obviously the brains of any operation, so if there were more of you you'd be back at home-base or whatever, seeing things run smoothly. If you're here, it means you're limited."

Hermione tried to look impassive. It didn't help that Theodore Nott knew her current face very, very well.

"So," he sat up straight and clapped his hands together, "I'm not your target. I dunno who is, but it's not Blaise either, or else you'd have come prepared to strike me first and I wouldn't have gotten the best of you. That eliminates the two people in Slytherin I give half a dragon's tail about. Could be Draco? Or Marcus, maybe. I guess Pansy is a proper target as well."

Just as he finished talking, there was someone at the door. Hermione readied herself to try to spring up when Nott looked away, but he just watched her, amused. She scowled at him again, which seemed to elicit a chuckle.

Finally breaking eye-contact, Hermione looked at the door frame to see who'd come in.

"Well, Theodore, this is new," Blaise Zabini's deep, rich voice filled the room. There was a click as he closed the door behind him before settling down on the bed next to the one Theodore was seated on.

"Oh, let me introduce you. Blaise, this is Hermione Granger. She excels in charms, transfiguration-all subjects, really. And on the side she dabbles in impersonating me. Hermione Granger, this is Blaise. He's also a pureblood who happens to not be the heir of Slytherin."

Blaise snorted. "Oh, enough of that. I had to sit through breakfast with Draco trying to convince me it's him. Right bloody likely."

Hermione frowned at Blaise Zabini as he looked her up and down.

"Well," he concluded, "You sure did a stellar job, Granger."

Theodore suddenly jerked his torso towards Blaise and grinned. "_Or_," he asked dramatically, "Am _I_ Granger?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Right, and Draco's the heir of Slytherin. Besides, you haven't got the hair for it," he paused, then looked mournfully at Hermione. "No offense," he added.

Theodore turned back to Hermione, too, and shrugged. "I like your hair, actually, I think it's nice," he said cheerfully.

Blaise put a hand to his forehead wearily. "Honestly, Theodore. You're the only person vain enough on earth to start fancying a girl just because she suddenly looks just like you."

"I meant her actual hair. The curly one," Theodore explained.

Blaise sighed. "I know."

"Well," Hermione decided to try reasoning with them. They didn't seem exactly reasonable, but surely if either of them were going to hurt her they would've done so by now. "Since you've already figured that I'm not after either of you, really I'm harmless, and it would be very polite of you to let me be on my way."

Theodore scoffed. "And let you run around attracting attention in my body? Merlin, no."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For your information, I hardly attracted any attention as you."

"You asked Draco if Blaise was up here, didn't you?" Hermione frowned in answer and Theodore threw his hands in the air. "There you go! Why would old Drakey-cakes bother keeping tabs on Blaise, here?"

"I think you should just let her go, this has lost its novelty," Blaise interjected. As if to demonstrate his boredness, he reclined back on on the bed, pulling the pillow under his dark locks. 

**M**

"_How are we going to lure Nott in?"_

"_We won't have to, I always see him in the library around this time, so he should be there."_

"_Good, I only nicked two cupcakes anyway."_

**M**

Theodore kept his eyes on Hermione, but called back, "That'd be like giving her permission to just use my face."

"Mate, you've been wanting her to _use your face_ since last year," Blaise replied dryly.

Finally, Theodore turned away. "First off, that sounds nasty. Secondly, is now really the time?"

It was a subtle shift, but sudden enough that she noticed immediately. Her clothes were getting looser and looser, her hair began to gain weight, her vision got just slightly better.

"I'm telling you, mate, just let her go. Girl you like, looks like you, trapped in your dorm? Weird stuff. If I were Snape, I'd kick you out."

"Oh, shove off, I'm letting her go, I was just building up to it. You have no sense of dramatic timing."

Hermione heard a the sound of shifting sheets and adjusting springs from the bed hosting Blaise, followed by a quiet sigh.

"Dramatic timing indeed, Theo. Look what you've done."

Theodore Nott turned back to Hermione again in astonishment.

"Well," he murmured, "this isn't good."

Blaise relaxed on the bed again. "I could just take her downstairs and say it's you with Polyjuice Potion?" he suggested gently.

Theodore shot him an indignant look, then cocked his head at Hermione. "So, Hermione Granger do you have an escape plan you want to put in place about now?"

Hermione sat up straighter in place. "Well, Theodore Nott, how about you give me back my wand, for starters."

"Not worth it, mate," Blaise called tiredly.

Theodore ignored him. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you out to make sure you don't turn on me and grab another clump of my hair, or something," he said, grimacing. "I swear, though, I don't have anything properly against you. When we're out of the common room, you grab your wand back from me and it should work fine again."

"He wants to be properly against you," Blaise called helpfully from his bed. Hermione noticed a slight, peculiar pinkening of Theodore's cheeks, but Blaise's remark went otherwise unacknowledged.

**M**

_ "What does yours taste like, Harry?"_

_ "Overcooked cabbage, if I had to pick. How about you, Ron?"_

_ "'Essence of Crabbe' is almost exactly like a bogie flavoured jelly-bean."_

_ "How nasty was yours Hermione?"_

_ "Oh, it wasn't very bad, actually," she admitted sheepishly. "It was sort of like, um, candy-floss?"_

_ "Why couldn't I be Theodore Nott!? Stupid gnarly Crabbe, crusty git."_

**M**

"Well, then, how do you plan to get me out in the first place?" Hermione asked, arms crossed.

"_Palleo_," Theodore said, wand out, turning her tie green and silver again. "Well, Plan A. involved just putting a blanket over you and saying Blaise is in a bad place mentally. Plan B. involved magically disfiguring your face beyond recognition, though honestly I'm not the best transfigurer when it comes to faces-"

"That explains a lot," Blaised piped in.

"So maybe Plan C. is better, which is to transfigure you into a cauldron and carry you out casually. Personally, I think it's our best bet."

"I actually like Blaise's plan," Hermione said earnestly. "Just say I'm Blaise disguised as me."

"No, say you kidnapped her but you're swapping her out as part of a hostage-trade agreement," Blaise called from the bed, "Then snog her."

"Oh, would you shut up!" Hermione and Theodore shouted simultaneously.

There was a low chuckle from the bed, which Theodore intentionally spoke over. "Too many questions, everyone will want to be in on it. I actually might have a halfway decent idea, but you'll have to trust me, Hermione Granger."

Blaise snorted.

**M**

"_Rennervate_."

Hermione stood up and looked around the bleak, near-empty corridor. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stretched, and heard little cracks as she stretched past the stiffness in her back and neck.

"Sorry about that," Theodore mumbled. She wanted to laugh. He seemed a lot more unsure now that he wasn't talking to himself in his room.

"It's fine," Hermione said breezily. "I'm really just surprised it worked."

Theodore shrugged, "Sometimes something is so bizarre people think it's got to be true. _Theodore Nott, hoarder of a petrified muggleborn finally decides to do the right thing and turn her in to the infirmary_. It's actually kind of flattering, if absurd."

"Minus the hoarding part," Hermione pointed out. "Your housemates are going to think you're a bit insane."

"In their defense, I am a bit insane." Theodore moved on quickly, pulling the vinewood wand out of his robe and holding it up. "Anyway, are you ready? I'm about 90% sure this will only work for you again if you fight me for it. I won't punch you or use magic or anything, but I will try to shove you off, so be ready?"

Hermione, on the other hand, was 100% sure. It would be nice if this weren't necessary, but her wand was key for everything. Magic, grades. At this point, it was so deeply integrated into her everyday life that she couldn't imagine living decently without it properly working. Not to mention her grades would plummet.

"Actually, Theodore, I did have one question, before we begin," Hermione murmured.

"Oh? Wh-"

Before he could finish asking, Hermione had pounced on him, careful to hook her arm around his head so that it broke his fall. He held the wand away and made to grab her with his other arm but he was too slow, she caught him by the wrist first and pinned the stray arm down to the chilly stone floor. She thought she felt him trying to sit up beneath her, so she pushed her knees together in an effort to keep his abdomen on the floor. He was able to lift a little anyway but was ultimately caught under her weight. He was taller, but gracile.

Hermione strained to reach for the wand, but realized her dilemma. In order to reach the wand, she would have to release his other hand. With a grunt, she climbed over him as he squirmed under her, shoving a knee onto his chest and attempting to hold down his left arm with her left leg, freeing her hands. She took a small moment to mentally thank Harry again for loaning her his pants before.

"Wow, you're a beast. Do you, like, attack people often? Is this how you qualify for Gryffindor? Up til now I thought you're a better fit for Ravenclaw, but Merlin's right hook. You're mad."

Hermione realized immediately that this was an effort to distract her, so she didn't reply with more than a smile. After trying mentally for a moment to measure the length of his arm, she lunged forward, one hand firmly grasping the familiar wand. She felt a sense of relief before she realized he was still holding on as well.

She tried desperately to tug it away from him, but his hand was strong. She glanced apologetically at his face, turned toward the corridor wall, and quickly tucked her free hand under the pit of his arm and wriggled her fingers. Theodore Nott gasped sharply and relinquished the wand. Hermione breathed out contently.

She slid off of his chest and onto the floor, pulling her wand close to her own chest, as if in an embrace. Theodore Nott sat up beside her.

"Well, you have your wand back. Can I sue for damages now?" Theodore asked weakly, rubbing his left elbow.

"No," Hermione stated simply. "But for your troubles, I'll sit next to you from now on when I see you in the library."

"Lucky me," he said, both sarcastic and sincere.


End file.
